


All of me

by yankmywand



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yankmywand/pseuds/yankmywand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being attached to someone poisonous gets you burned in the end, and for Sebastian Moran, even more so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

There was tapping on the keyboard, and it was more present than the voices on the television. Tap, tap, tap. Sebastian thought he was going crazy from the sound of it. It was relentless, it didn't stop. Jim was not going to stop for a few hours, it seemed, and Sebastian tapped his fingers on the bottle of beer, to the beat of Jim's tapping. Condense from it rolled down and wetted his fingers. Despite that, he kept a tight grip on the bottle. It itched in his fingers to work. Work wasn't coming as evenly as it had, and Sebastian wondered if Jim was in some sort of rut. That wasn't possible, it was Jim, Jim didn't get in trouble. If things were silent, things were good. Wasn't that how it worked? Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, shutting out the match on the television, and leaned his head back.

 

"Are you enjoying yourself without me, Sebastian?" The question came quietly, casual, as if Jim was asking what time it was. Of course. The sofa was with its back to Jim, who was sitting by the dining table, which was now cluttered with paper, books and Jim's elegant scribbles on post-it notes. Sebastian grinned at the question; It could definitely seem like he was enjoying himself, and it was a disappointing answer he gave Jim,

 

"No, Sir, just relaxing."

 

A slight grin faded from Sebastian's lips when he raised his head from the leaned back position, and he turned his head to look at Jim for a moment. The handsome bastard was staring at him in return, something Sebastian had not exepected him to.

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing," Sebastian's answer came quicker than he'd intended it to, and it sounded suspicious, he knew that Jim would pick up on it. And Jim did. _He always did._

 

"If there's anything, Moran, you can always speak up, God knows I could use your expertise advice," The mockery in his tone had Sebastian's otherwise indifferent face turn into a sour grimace, and he turned his head.

 

"Fuckin' forget it, Sir," He muttered, continuing on watching the game, though he was pretty sure that he wasn't going to be allowed to with Jim's attention now fixed on him. He closed his eyes with a silent sigh.

 

It was silent for a moment, before he heard the keys on the laptop being tapped again. The surprise on his face was priceless, as he glanced over his shoulder, and he could finally enjoy the profile of Jim's face. The small, yet distinctive nose, the full lips pouting in concentration, and his long eyelashes that Sebastian could see from here. He could fucking see them from where he was sitting, several feet from Jim.

 

They sat like that for at least another hour, before he felt Jim slump down beside him, and he glanced - didn't dare look properly - at Jim. Sebastian's arm was on the backrest of the sofa, and he was pretty aware of that as soon as Jim leaned his head back. The soft, black hair touched his fucking arm, and Sebastian did not dare move his arm now.

 

Fucking hell, he was acting like a fucking teenager on his first date, and the thirty-four year old man stared out into thin air for a moment, before he glanced to the side again, and found Jim looking at him.

 

He swallowed. The eyes that met his had the light from the crystal chandelier reflected in them, and they were dark. Though Sebastian could see the auburn that burned in them. His gut sucked in, and he knew what it meant. He knew that sultry stare. Sebastian knew exactly what Jim was asking him to do, and he always gave in. Boldly grasping for the black hair with the hand that had been laying on the backrest, Sebastian pulled Jim into a kiss that was too hard, too biting, and too bloody fucking perfect.

 

They were both panting hard when they broke the kiss, and Sebastian slid down from the sofa, to spread Jim's legs for him, and he sat down between the man's legs. Sebastian's hands stroked up Jim's thighs, until he reached the belt buckle and the zipper in Jim's trousers. They were obstacles he had met before, but it didn't take long until he held Jim's semi-hard cock in his hand. He kissed up the side of it, willing it to become hard for him. He took the half flaccid cock in his mouth, expecting to suck Jim hard. It usually took him an average amount of time to get Jim hard, but tonight it seemed different.

 

He expected all that stress that built up in Jim's body, and the tension that had to be let out in some way or another. Sebastian was more than willing to help Jim.

 

He didn't remember when it started. He didn't remember a time when he did not willingly get down on his knees and give Jim a helping hand and mouth before he got a pat on his cheek, or head, and was sent to his bedroom. Sebastian could only shrug at his own thoughts, and his eyes wandered up Jim's body, up to his eyes, eyes that were looking curiously down at Sebastian.

 

Sometimes, Sebastian wondered what went on behind closed doors. Jim scarecly let him in on things that were going on, and Sebastian followed orders blindly. He better, because he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't.

 

"Good... good boy," Sebastian heard Jim's breathless voice cooing down at him, while his mouth enclosed around Jim's cock. Sebastian enjoyed the taste of Jim, and he wished there were more of Jim he could taste, but he was sure that this was all he was getting until the end of his days. The odd thing? He didn't care if this was all.

 

Jim finished in his mouth, like always, and Sebastian swallowed, not missing a drop. It was perverse; before Jim, Sebastian would never have swallowed another man's come. But Jim was different, and he tasted, as Sebastian recalled, heavenly. He scooted away when Jim got up, and nearly shoved Sebastian out of the way.

 

"Sebastian?"

 

He cursed himself when he looked up like some lost puppy, but he looked up nonetheless. Jim smiled at him, and Sebastian saw no humour in those eyes.

 

"Go to bed. Tomorrow, we'll have a bit of fun. You like that, don't you?"

 

Sebastian watched him as he disappeared into his bedroom, and as the door closed, Sebastian trudged his way towards the bedroom with his painfully hard length throbbing inside of the confines of his trousers. A matter for his own hand, and as the water of the shower sprayed down on him a minute later, Sebastian pressed one hand to the wall of the shower stall, and one hand wrapped carefully around his cock.

 

They'd have a bit of fun tomorrow. Sebastian was looking forward to something that would take his mind of Jim, for fucking once.

 


	2. Out of my mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been six months, and three months earlier, Jim did something Sebastian can't comprehend completely. Not feeling anything, Sebastian has come to believe the fact that things did not go as he planned them to, and yet, there's something that's not right with how things has turned out.

Lazy feet dragged over the mail that had not been opened in days, weeks, months even. He could sense his mind going numb, and it was a miracle that he had gotten up from the bed where he spent most of his time. Sebastian shook his foot at a letter that was stuck to the underside of his foot, and as he did his business in the bathroom, he stared into the wall. Washing his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like some sort of bony, emaciated animal, yet he didn’t care. Nothing seemed to bother him anymore. Sebastian’s days consisted of nothingness.

He slid his tired feet back to the bed and he slumped down in it, laying on his side with his arm underneath his head, and it created a humming in his voice. Like the hum of the ocean in a shell found on the beach on a particularly windy day.

If he kept his eyes open, he thought about it. If he went back to sleep, he dreamt of it. And when he dreamt of it, he woke up sweating, and nothing helped. Because everything reminded him of what used to be. Before Jim decided that taking his own life was the way to go. Everything sort of cluttered together into a big mass of everything and nothing, and Sebastian felt hollow, empty.

Denial had been the first way for Sebastian to handle it. The fact was that no one seemed to know where Jim’s body was, or if there was a body at all. Someone mentioned the cleaning team, and they were all certain that their boss had it all planned out. A man so prone to violence and bloodshed did not want his employees to see his lifeless body. Everyone thought so, but Sebastian. Sebastian was certain that Jim was somewhere, somewhere he could not see yet. That was until a letter showed up.

Three days after the detective had jumped from the ledge of St. Bart’s, Sebastian had received a letter.  A letter that contained one handwritten page and Sebastian knew that handwriting to bloody well to know that this was no joke. Jim’s slanted R’s, and his delicate A’s and E’s. Sebastian did not want to read, but ever the loyal sniper, he opened it. At the time, he did not take notice of the stamp – or rather, the lack thereof. The text was written out over half the page, and Jim’s extravagant signature was at the bottom of it. Dated three days before St. Bart’s, and Sebastian knew it.

_Do not look for me, Sebastian. I won’t be where you think I am._   
_I won’t be at a place where you will be able to find me, for I am_   
_not of this earth any longer. I leave it all to you. The web, the_   
_men (and promise me that you make good use of them), and I_   
_give you all my property, my fortune and my success. You_   
_will have it all. You are not allowed to waste away, and I will_   
_have a special place for you when you join me. Not too soon,_   
_promise me that._   
_\- Jim_

He had stared at it for hours, at the handwriting that seemed to hold some of Jim there. He needed that. He needed Jim around, he was certain that he would never make it without him, and the letter was all he had that could give him some peace, that let him sleep for the first time since Jim decided on his own fate. Jim was dead.

* * *

 

Hours had gone since he went to the bathroom, and Sebastian stared at the ceiling after having turned on his back in the bed. Sometimes he wondered, that if he laid there long enough, maybe he’d waste away, breaking the order that seemed barked at him in the letter. Fuck the letter. Fuck Jim.

He sat bolt right up. Anger. He was feeling angry. It was a feeling he had not felt for a long time, and he furrowed his brow. It was dark in the room, and Sebastian caught himself with not noticing it before right at that moment. It was as if the grey sheen that had lain over everything washed away and he could finally see colours again. Instead of anger, he now saw fascination in the fact that he was feeling something, and in an instant, his stomach growled. That, it had not done for days, and Sebastian silently wondered when he had eaten last. He reached for the letter, and in the aggressiveness of his grabbing for it, the envelope fell down to the floor, face up.

There was no stamp. No fucking stamp. The anger rose inside of him once again. The certainty of Jim not being dead made its presence clear again, and he stared down at the slanted R’s and delicate A’s and E’s.

“That fuckin’ bastard,” A growl, angry and primal, came deep from Sebastian’s throat, which was hoarse from not having spoken in a very long time. Clenching his fist around the letter, it crinkled in his grip, and he threw it on the ground. Detective work had never been his strong suit, but he needed to try, because if Jim had the gall to lie to him, Sebastian would never find out if his gut feeling had been right or wrong.

He stepped out of bed, sitting on the edge of it. Looking around, he started to notice it. Small things. There were several belts missing from the chair in the corner of the room, and if Sebastian opened the closet door, there were suits missing. He could see the gaps in the socks drawer, and three pairs of shoes were missing. Jim had packed, which meant that Sebastian had been right all along. Jim couldn’t be dead, he had to be alive, and Sebastian had to find him.

“I am going to shoot you, and I’ll love it,” The words were bitten through clenched teeth, and Sebastian got dressed as quickly as he could. As he pulled on a hooded jacket, he opened the fridge to see if he had anything he could eat, but the stench that met his face seemed like bad breath, and Sebastian closed the fridge door quickly.

It took him no less time to step across the letters in the hallway, and hurry down to the parking house, where he picked out one of Jim’s cars, and sat in it. He started the car as quickly as he could, and cars stopped all around the sleek black car that bolted out of the parking house, and drove towards the only place Sebastian could think of Jim being. He did not want to go there. He knew that she would only drag him into her woven lies of expensive clothing and pricy jewellery. As he pulled up outside and parked his car, he sat in it for a longer time than necessary, yet knowing that for every moment he wasted, Jim was slipping further and further away from him.

So he got out, and leaned against the car, before he took the first steps towards the white, Belgravia house, and knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope this tells you a bit of what's happened. It's post-reichenbach, for those of you who don't get that, and I hope you all are interested in what is going to happen next!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progression, I am trying to update as often as I can, and regularly. Feel free to kick me if you think I am too slow.


End file.
